Hello Country Bumpkin
by FotoBridgeT2
Summary: btween Zoo York and City of Dolls What makes Danny change his mind about the country bumpkin invading his turf? PREQUAL TO SINS OF THE FATHERS. There will be more set in this reality. I tried not to deviate from Cannon.


D 3L(Takes place after Zoo York and before City of Dolls. Is the first case they work together without any other CSIs)

_**"So long, country bumpkin"**__**"The frost is gone now from on the pumpkin"**__**"I've seen some sights and life's been **__**somethin**____**"See you later, country bumpkin"**_

**Hello Country Bumpkin**

He didn't like the new girl. Sure she was cute, in a down-home girl-next-door kind of way—and in his experience those kinds of girls really knew how to work it. But he somehow doubted this one did.

He just didn't think she'd last the month—that was all. She wasn't like Stella, or even like Aiden for that matter. No, Lindsay Monroe was too sweet to be able to handle being a cop in New York City. So why should he help her prolong the inevitable?

He smirked at her over the file in his hands, watching as she walked down the hall alongside Mac. Look at her—pink blouse, curls in her hair. She was such a _little sister _kind of girl. Mac smiled at something she said. Danny's eyes rose. He couldn't recall the last time Mac had looked at a girl like that. _So the little country bumpkin had won over the boss. What was she __tryin__' to do?_

Danny vowed to find out.

Mac stopped just inside the door, "Danny, you and Lindsay have a case. I need you to head over to Central Park. Woman found raped and murdered beneath a stone park bench. Flack will meet you there."

Danny nodded, inwardly smiling at the look that passed across the bumpkin's face. She wasn't too thrilled to be working with him--that was obvious. Danny wondered briefly if it was because of the teasing he'd given her last week or whether it was something else.

"Great. Come on, kiddo. Let's roll." He told her, snatching his keys off his desk. "I'm drivin'. Wouldn't want you to get lost in the big city."

"How kind of you, Detective Messer." She said before turning toward Mac again, "Thanks, Mac. I really appreciate it."

"It's not a problem, just keep it quiet, if possible." Mac laughed softly, a sound Danny had rarely heard him make. "Just text me when you are finished and I'll send you all the necessary information. You two better get goin'."

Danny motioned the new girl out of the room ahead of him, his eyes automatically going to rest on her backside. For a country bumpkin, and a small one at that, he had to admit the girl was built. Nope, not a bad view at all.

"Danny!"

He turned at Mac's shout from halfway down the hall. "Yo, boss?"

"Keep in line!"

Danny grinned and shrugged before turning to follow the girl out of the lab. _So Mac had caught him __checkin__' out his new colleague—so what?_

NYNYNY

It wasn't that Lindsay didn't like Danny Messer. Or at least, she hadn't started out _actively _disliking him. But she honestly didn't see what all the lab girls fussed about. He was an arrogant, cocky, rude asshole. So _why _should she like him?

Now her boss, Mac, that was another story. He was a very good looking, and kind, man. He was worth fussing over. Lindsay still couldn't quite believe he'd offered to let her stay in his guestroom until she found a place. Her uncle's place was really too small, considering she had six cousins also crammed in the three bedroom apartment. And she agreed with him about keeping the arrangements just between them—she could only imagine the rumors that would fly around the lab if it got out that the new girl was shacking up with the big boss. And the teasing from Messer would never end.

Not what reputation Lindsay wanted to develop in New York. She'd had enough of the limelight years ago with the restaurant shooting when she was a teenager. No, that life was behind her.

Now she just wanted to do her job, to blend in, to _not _be noticed. Thanks to Danny Messer's teasing—people were starting to notice her, some of it not-so-good. _Damn him. _Why couldn't he just leave her alone?

She listened as Mac told them that they'd be paired up on a case, agreed distractedly when Danny claimed driving privileges. She walked out of her and Danny's office, ahead of her nemesis, stopping only briefly when Mac called one last directive to Messer.

After they entered the parking garage Lindsay slid her kit into the backseat of the car Messer indicated. He followed suit, then settled into the driver's seat. As Lindsay snapped her seatbelt he turned to watch.

"So what was that back there?"

"What do you mean?" Lindsay asked, drumming her fingers against the door. "Shouldn't we be going?"

"Hang on. Body ain't goin' anywhere that quick. With Mac, what you keepin' on the down-low?"

"You know. The very definition of _down__-__low _is that it is quiet, private. All you need to know is that Mac has done me a favor. Anything else that involves me is…get this Messer…_none of your business. _Will you just drive?"

"Whoa…someone's a little testy this morning. Not get enough sleep, Montana?"

"Do not call me that. I have a name. It's Monroe. _Mon-roe_."

"Ok, not sleep well, Mon-roe?" Danny mentally shrugged. _Bumpkin__ needed to __loosin__'__ up._

"Can we just drop it and focus on the case?" Lindsay sighed, hating how defensive he made her feel. He so just got under her skin.

"Sure. What did Mac give you? On the case I mean?"

NYNYNYNYNY

Lindsay crouched alongside the vic, carefully eying the ripped green blouse covering only a fraction of the woman's pale chest. Though she exhibited an outwardly calm appearance, inside she fumed. Once they'd arrived at the scene, Messer had immediately taken charge, introducing himself and Lindsay to the detectives waiting for them, then giving her orders.

She'd told him that she had been doing this job for a more than a few years. The ass had just shrugged and said, "This is New York, not Montana. How am I supposed to know what you're capable of?"

"Same goes, Messer. How do I know you won't foul things up?" She'd asked.

A tall detective interrupted him before he could answer her. Lindsay'd recognized him as Det. Flack or something like that. She remembered seeing him at the zoo her first day on the job. His blues eyes stood out in her mind.

He and Danny had spoken for a while, laughing and looking in her direction. It was enough to make a girl feel a little insecure. _No matter, _Messer's opinion—and that of his hot friend—didn't effect her in the least. She was here to help this poor girl lying in front of her.

Something caught her attention and she leaned in for a closer perusal. A three millimeter piece of foil clung to the right shoulder of the victim and she bagged it. A smudge of some light brown substance coated the underside of the vic's left arm. Lindsay swabbed it and labeled it while Danny took more pictures of the scene, and the crowd of on-lookers. Sometimes killers liked to revisit the scene of the crime.

"You about done, Montana? ME's here to collect our girl."

"It's Monroe and yes, I think I am done with her. For now. You got pictures of these patterns around her neck, right?"

He nodded before speaking, "Great. Let's finish up here and head back to the lab. Shift's about over, and Sid won't get to the autopsy until at least tomorrow."

"Give me a few minutes." Lindsay said, gathering up the evidence she'd collected and placing it securely in her case. "I'm just about done."

"Great." Detective Flack said as he strolled closer to the crime tape separating him and the other cops from the primary crime scene. "So Monroe, you up for drinks after shift? Just you and me. Tell you what, I'll even buy."

At his buddy's words, Danny nearly dropped his camera. _Did he hear it right? Had Flack just asked the country bumpkin out?_

Lindsay could feel her cheeks heat as her eyes darted between Messer and Flack. If she said yes, she'd have to endure Messer's teasing for who knows how long. Yet she'd really like to make some friends here in New York. But not necessarily with Danny Messer's friends. "I'd really love too, but I'm afraid I already have other plans. Some other time?"

"Sure. I'll hold you to that." Flack said, smiling down at Lindsay, missing Danny's glare shot in his direction.

NYNYNYNYNY

Danny was silent for the beginning of the ride back to the lab and Lindsay was grateful. They'd just turned into the parking garage when he jerked the car into a parking space and threw it into park.

"What the hell, Messer?" Lindsay asked, grabbing the door handle a few seconds too late to avoid a bit of whiplash. "There's plenty of spaces available."

"Sorry 'bout that. My mind was on somethin' else."

"I can only guess at what. Next time, give me a bit of warning."

They walked into the building, each lost in their own irritations. Danny couldn't get over Flack's audacity—asking the country bumpkin out right in front of him and half a dozen other cops. _Damned __Casanova_

And the bumpkin—she'd certainly seemed _regretful _that she'd already had plans. _Was she truly interested in Flack? _What kind of taste did the girl have, anyway? Smiling at Don in a way she'd never smiled at _him. _And he worked with her everyday.

What did Flack have that he didn't? Not that he wanted the bumpkin's interest. Still, kind of hurt the ego a little, ya know? Besides, he had a girlfriend—and regardless of what the lab techs thought, Danny had a strict code of ethics. One girl at a time. So even if the bumpkin was interested, Danny couldn't—wouldn't—do anything about it. So why did Flack's question grate so much?

They entered the lab and turned down the hallway, stopping outside Mac's office. Danny knocked to get his attention before opening the door. He motioned Lindsay into the room ahead of him, and she entered, clutching her kit in front of her.

Danny quickly updated their boss on what they knew so far. Mac nodded, asked a few questions, which both Danny and Lindsay answered, and then he dismissed them, reminding them they each had the early shift the next day.

Danny and Lindsay stood, heading to secure the evidence before heading home.

"Lindsay?" Mac said, just as Danny opened the office door. "Seven."

"That's great, Mac. Perfect."

Danny felt his jaw hit his chest. _Had he heard right?__ The bumpkin__ had a date with Mac? No way, no way in hell._

Danny followed her into the trace lab, watched as she logged in the brown substance she'd swabbed. He waited until the tech was out of the room before he stepped closer to the bumpkin. "Date with Mac? Career suicide, Montana. You sure you wanna do that?"

"In the first place, Messer, get out of my space. Second, I do not have a date with the boss—I've already told you he was doing me a favor. He's a kind man, something I am very convinced you are not. And third, my business is just that—_my business. _Not yours. So back the hell off." Lindsay's voice grew tighter as she spoke, and her hand fisted in the brown material of his shirt, pulling him closer to hear her words.

Danny heard what she said, though he was having a hard time concentrating on the meaning behind her words. The bumpkin smelled like vanilla. _Man, I__'ve__ always loved the smell of vanilla_he thought to himself. Vanilla had always reminded him of when his Ma was having a good day, when he could pretend his family was almost normal. And now the bumpkin smelled like vanilla, not like that cloying chemical scent that so many women in New York favored.

He'd read somewhere that men were naturally attracted to a woman who smelled like warm vanilla. Maybe the bumpkin had read the same article. That made sense, she was doin' it deliberately. And apparently it was workin'—if Flack and Mac where anything to go by.

A vanilla –scented bumpkin. Great.

"Whoa, Montana. Ease up. Didn't mean nothin' by it. Just watchin' out for ya." He pulled away from her, putting both hands up by his head and surrender. "Don't worry, I won't do it again."

"You're such a jerk, Messer. I don't get you. What have I ever done to you? I've only been here a few weeks. What is with you? Do I intimidate you or something? Step on your manly toes, somehow?"

"What? Hell, no. If you can't take it Mon-roe, maybe New York isn't for you. Maybe you should head back to Montana."

"And give you what you want, you dick?" Lindsay could feel her voice rising. _Who did this asshole think he was? _"You're stuck with me, so I suggest you get used to it."

"And if I don't?" Danny asked, trying to hide the smirk playing with his lips. Seems the bumpkin had a temper. "Then what?"

He really wasn't ready for the fist she shoved into his stomach, sending the air rushing from his lungs.

"That's what. Now if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be." She shoved him lightly, before spinning on her heels and leaving the lab, passing Stella on the way out.

"Wow, Danny, see the new girl's made a big impression. Better not let Mac find out about this."

"Damn country bumpkin. I was only teasin'."

"I suggest you give her some space. Kid's not had it easy." Stella told him, laying the envelopes from her own case down on the table.

"What do ya mean? Somebody givin' her trouble?"

"Besides you, you mean? Some of the girls from administration have been hassling her. I'm not sure what about and a few of the uni's are derogatory. Because she's from out of town and young. You know how they are with us."

"Yeah. But that's bull. Givin' her trouble like that."

"I agree, and she's handling herself pretty well. But you might want to give her a chance. I know she's not Aiden, but she's damned good at her job. And she's a sweet girl. You might even like her if you give her a chance. I know I do, and Mac does. What do you say, can you lighten up with her a little bit? Kid's got to be lonely. Other than her uncle's family, I doubt she knows anyone in the city."

Danny felt shame fill his stomach, as he admitted to himself that he may have been a little hard on the bumpkin. So what if she wanted to have drinks with Flack—or even Mac for that matter. She was right—it really wasn't any of his business.

"Ya, I can see where it would be. Tell you what, first thing tomorrow morning I'll apologize to the bumpkin."

"_Bumpkin!_Daniel Messer! Damn right, you'll apologize tomorrow. And I want to see it!" Stella wacked him across the head as a voice rang out behind them.

"Stella, you really shouldn't assault fellow officers." Mac drawled, leaning his head in the door frame, his coat draped over his arm.

"Heading home?" Stella asked, "You feel like catching a bite?"

"Appealing as that invitation is, I'm afraid I can't. I have plans this evening." With that Mac gave a small two –finger salute in farewell before turning and leaving.

"Wow. Mac has plans. And he was actually smiling over them. Wonder what that's all about?" Stella watched her boss and friend as he strolled down the hall to the elevator.

_Don't we both, _Danny thought, remembering _the favor _and how _kind _Lindsay had said Mac was. _Kind, my ass._

_There was __somethin__' about the bumpkin, only question was—what?_

NYNYNYNY

At five minutes before seven Lindsay hugged her uncle and thanked him for letting her stay with him the past two weeks. She grabbed her suitcase and her laptop—the only things she'd brought with her from Montana. She was having the rest of her stuff shipped when she found a more permanent place.

"You sure of this guy, half-pint?" Uncle Freddie asked, helping her with the suitcase.

"He's my boss. One of the leading CSI's in the nation. And yes, I trust him. And it will only be for a few weeks, until I can save up enough for an apartment in Manhattan."

"Ok, just call me if you need me. And I want to meet this boss of yours."

"I'm sure he's waiting in the lobby, I doubt Mac is ever late." Lindsay smiled, glad that she had some family here in New York. Uncle Freddie's insistence on meeting Mac didn't surprise her in the least.

After Uncle Freddie was satisfied with meeting Mac, Mac and Lindsay walked the sixteen blocks to Mac's apartment, him dragging her wheeled suitcase behind him. They talked about why she'd left Montana, why they'd become CSIs, and other inane things.

"So you getting along ok with everyone?" Mac asked as they entered the lobby of his building. "Nobody being difficult?"

"Well, no, nothing I really can't handle. Stella is wonderful and so is Sheldon."

"And Danny?"

"Detective Messer's a bit of a pain. I really don't get him." Lindsay admitted honestly. She didn't know what it was about Mac but after that first day at the zoo she'd had no trouble talking to him about anything.

"Give him time. Danny doesn't do well with change, and he and Aiden were pretty close."

"Aiden?"

"You filled the opening when I fired her. Danny most likely resents that. Don't worry, he'll come around."

"Don't worry, I can handle it. I'm used to having to prove myself. In Bozeman I was the only female CSI on the force. And being five-two really doesn't help."

"Well, you're doing great here. So keep it up."

"I'll do my best." Lindsay said. "Thanks, again, Mac."

"No problem."

NYNYNYYNYNY

Lindsay was up early the next morning, grateful to have finally slept in a real bed again. Mac's guestroom had its own bathroom, so she settled in for a long soak. Uncle Freddie's place had only had a shower, and poor water pressure. Mac was already gone when she entered the kitchen, but he'd left her a note that explained there was cereal in the cabinet and to help herself until she could get to the market for whatever she needed.

She was pretty relaxed when she arrived at the lab, but she immediately felt her stomach tighten when she spotted Danny in their office. _What was it about __the cocky__ ass?_

NYNYNYNYNY

At ten minutes before five Lindsay finished documenting her files. She and Danny had found nothing to identify their victim, no prints in the system, no distinguishing characteristics. Nothing, and it was frustrating. She closed the folder and slipped it into her desk drawer, before locking it securely.

"What's the hurry?" Danny asked, looking up from his own desk.

"Apartment hunting."

"You want I should go with you? Make sure you get a place in a safe neighborhood? Wouldn't want a country kid like you gettin' taken advantage of."

"Tempting as that offer is, I think I'll pass." She replied with as much sarcasm as she could muster. "I can handle it."

"Ok, just don't say I didn't offer."

NYNYNYNYNY

Lindsay spent two hours searching through Manhattan for available apartments but was discouraged. She soon found herself back at Mac's apartment going over the notes she'd made and comparing the apartments that might possibly be in her price range. The notebooks were spread out on the glass coffee-table along with a pizza when Mac came in.

"Well, hello." He said, "Have any luck?"

Lindsay shook her head _no _and sighed with dejection.

"Have you talked to the super here? I know for a fact, that 2M down the hall will be empty in a few days. Couple's getting divorced and neither can afford the rent alone. It's a secure complex, plus there's a pool upstairs on the roof, and it's close to the lab." Mac said. "I'd be glad to serve as a reference."

"Seriously? 2M's on this floor right?" Lindsay asked, liking the idea a lot. Mac was right, the location was perfect, only four blocks from the lab, and with Mac in the building she'd feel a little more secure.

"Tell you what, why don't you talk to the super before work, see what he has to say. You can at least add it to your list. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go get ready. Stella's drafted me into escort duty at some gallery downtown.''

The doorbell rang just as Mac started to tie his bowtie. Lindsay had to admit the tux was a nice fit. Mac was a very good-looking man. He struggled with the tie and Lindsay hopped off the couch to help him tie it. Mac called out that the door was unlocked and it opened.

"Mac? Lindsay?" Stella asked as she came in, and looked at her colleagues. "What are you doing here?"

"Mac didn't tell you? He's offered me the use of his guest room for a few days until I can find a place of my own." Lindsay explained as she finished tying Mac's tie.

"I had no idea you still hadn't found you a place." Stella said, eying both Lindsay and Mac, with a speculative look in her eyes. She had thought there was something going on between Danny and Lindsay, but maybe it was _Mac _and Lindsay?

"Hopefully I'll find something by this weekend. Not that Mac's a bad host or anything like that." Lindsay smiled at the older man. "But it would be nice to finally have my stuff shipped in from Bozeman. Especially my piano."

"You play piano?" Mac's brows rose, "I didn't know that."

"Since I was ten. My parents thought music was appropriately 'girly' enough for me." Lindsay said, shrugging. "Not that I minded that, music relaxes me."

Mac and Stella laughed, preparing to leave. "Lindsay, let me know what the super says and if you need that recommendation."

"Thanks, Mac. Stella, I hope you guys have a good time." Lindsay said.

"Good night, Lindsay. I'll see you tomorrow." Stella said, grabbing Mac's arm to hurry him out the door.

"Good night."

NYNYNYNYNY

Lindsay spent more than an hour talking with the super of Mac's building, finally agreeing to the terms of the lease he put before her. She'd gone over every line, and made sure that she agreed to the building's regulations. Finally, though, she had a key to the very apartment Mac had recommended.

NYNYNYNYNY

After another day with absolutely no leads on the case, and still no ID for the victim, Danny and Flack decided to call it a night and head over to Sullivan's for drinks and a game or two of pool. "So let me get this straight, your girlfriend wants you to either commit or git. And that's what she said." Flack paraphrased as they set up the balls, beers in one hand cues in the other. "What did you tell her, man?"

"Told her that I liked her and all, but I wasn't ready for a lifetime commitment, and that I doubted I ever would be. I mean, man, when she starts talkin' I just completely lose interest. Can you imagine spendin' the rest of your life with a woman you can't even stand to listen to?" Danny answered, breaking the multicolored balls.

"Ah man. Best get out while you can then. Remember Jane?" Flack said, as he leaned in for his shot.

"The reporter? One who thought because you two were together she could walk right into the middle of the crime scenes?"

"Yeah that one. We saw things totally different. You know. Damned reporters. But man, did she know what to do at other times."

"So you two broke up then?"

"Recent. I couldn't tell if it was me she wanted or an inside scoop, ya know what I mean?"

"Users and losers. That's all we find, Flack. What does that say about us?" Danny asked, rhetorically. He lost his train of thought when he saw the door to Sullivan's open and two women walk in.

"Hey, man. That's Monroe with the new detective, Angell or something." Flack said, more enthusiastically than Danny wanted to hear.

"Damn. Bumpkin's everywhere." Danny swore. "Just can't get away from her."

"Why would you want to?" Don asked. "You just won't admit it, the girl can get to you. And you can't handle that."

"Bull shit." Danny turned back to the game, but put his cue down when Don started walking in the direction of Monroe and her friend. "Dammit, Flack. What the hell are you doin'?"

Danny followed Don to the back booths.

"Hey, Monroe. Fancy meetin' you here." Flack said, sliding into the seat beside Lindsay.

"Hi, Don. How are you? It's been what three hours since I saw you last?" Lindsay laughed at the blue-eyed man beside her.

"Detective Flack," Detective Jennifer Angell nodded at the man she'd seen in the station house. "Who's your silent friend?"

"Oh, that's just Detective Messer." Lindsay said with absolutely no emotion whatsoever. "Just ignore him, I try to."

"Now, Monroe, you know you can't resist me." Danny said, taking a seat as Angell slid over in the booth. "So what you all been doin' this late at night? Passed your bedtime, ain't it, Montana? Don't you have to get up with the cows or somethin?"

"Funny Messer." Lindsay said, shooting him a glare. "We've been out furniture shopping. I just signed a lease on a place. And Jennifer is helping me find the stuff I need."

"You sure it's a safe place?" Don asked. "Good locks and all?"

"And a security guard at the door, keypad entry to the elevator. Does that meet your approval, Dad?" Lindsay asked, exasperation evident in her tone. "I've heard this before, you know. From Mac, Sheldon, even Sid. Not to mention, my father and my uncle. I'm almost thirty years old you know."

_Message received, _Danny thought to himself. _Country bumpkin really needs to __loosin__'__ up._

"Interesting." Don said, helping himself to some nachos. "You two up to a game of pool? They do have pool tables in Montana, right?"

"It's not the moon. It's just Montana, Flack." Lindsay said, laughing and wondering why Don's teasing didn't bother her nearly as much as Messer's did. "I don't know. From what I've heard you two are pretty good at pool. And I don't remember ever really playing."

"Tell you what, we'll take it easy on yous the first couple of games. Then, losers buy the winners a beer." Don offered magnanimously—and completely missing the look that passed between the two women.

Danny sighed, _not _wanting to prolong an evening spent in the bumpkin's company. But he followed, not protesting as Flack led the way over to the pool tables. He remained silent as Flack helped the two with the first game, and then the second.

"So do you two think you got the hang of it? Wanna go for real this time?" Don asked, nearly rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"I don't know, Jen. You think we can manage?" Lindsay asked, a tone in her voice that had Danny looking at her more closely.

"I guess we can muddle through." Jennifer's voice was full of skepticism. "What were the terms again?"

"Drinks. But not tonight. Someplace a little more upscale than this dive."

"Ok. But if we win—you two help me get my new furniture into my apartment. The company delivers but they won't carry it inside the apartment." Lindsay said. She didn't exactly want Messer around, but free slave labor would definitely come in handy. And it would be fun to beat the two hustlers at their own game. From what she'd heard, Don and Danny were legendary in skill when it came to pool. Yep, beating the smug idiots would be intensely satisfying.

"I think that sounds nice." Don said, smirking. "Me and Danny we don't get many fancy drinks we don't have to pay for ourselves."

"Oh, poor you." Jennifer said. "That must be truly awful."

"Ok, smartass, let's play." Don handed her a cue before chalking up his own. She watched his movements for a moment, copying hesitantly.

"What can I say, I aim to please." Jennifer passed the chalk to Lindsay who silently chalked her own cue. She had yet to look at Messer.

A good half hour passed with the men keeping steadily ahead of the women. After Danny missed his last shot it was Lindsay's turn again.

"Linds, we shouldn't be out too much longer, I have the early shift tomorrow." Jennifer said, sending Lindsay a telling glance—it wasn't the first time they'd played pool together in the two weeks since they'd met. Both were new to the New York Police department and had formed a fast friendship and had been out several times.

"You girls could just go ahead and call it a forfeit." Don offered, looking at his and Danny's solids. They only had two left, and the eight ball of course.

"And admit defeat?" Lindsay asked, bending down and studying the table with an intensity that had Danny's gaze sharpening. Something about the way she held the stick made him wonder. "I was taught to always finish what I start."

With that, Lindsay sank the remainder of the striped balls—four in total, and then with a satisfying _thunk_sent the eight ball rolling into the side pocket. Flack's mouth dropped, and Danny's brows tightened when they realized they'd been beaten at their own game.

"Gentleman, and Messer, I believe that's the game. Remember—you've now become movers, and I'll expect you to be at my new place no later than eight a.m. Saturday." Lindsay handed her cue to Messer with a snotty little nod, suppressing a self-satisfied smirk with difficulty. "But I really believe we should be going now."

"What? Oh yeah." Flack said, "You want we should walk you home?"

"No, that's ok. Neither of us are very far from here." Lindsay said, zipping her coat. "But thanks, and thanks for the interesting game. It's been a while."

NYNYNYNYNYNY

Saturday morning arrived, bringing with it one hell of a hangover for Lindsay and Jennifer. They'd had a double date the night before and had stayed out much later than planned. They'd made it back to Mac's place, just to collapse on the couch and loveseat. Mac had been up when they'd arrived. He'd not admitted it, but he'd been waiting to ensure they were safe. He just left them where they lay, just stopping to place trash cans within easy reach and to cover the sleeping detectives with blankets.

If asked he'd deny it, but he really enjoyed having someone else at home—made him almost wish Lindsay wasn't moving out. He liked having the girl around. He just liked the girl period. Not that he'd ever act on that, of course. He wasn't what Lindsay needed and he knew that. Still, he was glad she'd only be a few doors down. He'd be able to keep an eye on her.

At seven-thirty he picked up his cell and dialed a familiar number. "Stella? You still coming over? I think Lindsay said Danny and Donnie were helping her with the furniture. I think I'm gonna need your help."

He laughed before explaining what he needed and why.

NYNYNYNYNY

"Well, here we are. Might as well get this over with." Don said. "Can't believe Monroe hustled us. Didn't think she had it in her."

"Hey, you started the whole damned thing." Danny said, still pissed at having to give up his Saturday morning because of Don's big mouth. He damned well didn't want to see the bumpkin this early on his first free Saturday in weeks. "Should have walked the other way—no ran—the other way as soon as we saw the bumpkin the other night."

"Who knew?" Don said philosophically. "Hey! This is the building, and look! There's Stella!"

"Hey Stella, you lose a bet with the bumpkin too?" Danny asked. "That what brings you out here this fine _early _Saturday morning?"

"Bet? No, actually Mac called me." Stella said, handing two steaming cups of coffee to Danny. "Hold these, he specifically said to bring strong black coffee. And stop calling her that."

"So Mac will be here, too." Danny asked, his face reflecting his thoughts on the matter. _Was he gonna be forced to watch the bumpkin flirt with both Don and Mac? No way, no way in hell._

"You might say that." Stella said cryptically. She had a small suspicion Danny and Don had no idea Lindsay'd spent the last week staying with Mac. This morning was going to be interesting. "Come on, follow me boys."

"To the ends of the earth." Don said, flashing his grin her way.

NYNYNYNY

Mac looked up when he heard the knock on the door signaling Stella had arrived. Lindsay and Jennifer were awake, glancing blurry-eyed around the living room. When the knock sounded Jennifer flinched, her head aching horribly. Lindsay just groaned and tried to bury her face deeper into the corner of the loveseat she was draped over.

"Rise and Shine!" Stella called out after Mac opened the door and ushered the three new arrivals into his apartment. "I've brought coffee—and aspirin. Lots of aspirin. You girls are gonna' need it. I also brought the slave-labor."

Jennifer rolled off the couch, landing practically on all fours, peering up at the four people standing in the center of the living room. "Oh gawd, what time is it?"

"7:45 a.m." Flack told her, taking in the very tempting sight before him. Jennifer wore a very small red dress, and Lindsay was similarly glad in dark green. They were rumpled, disheveled, and half-awake. "Rough night?"

"Please, someone tell me this is just a nightmare and I'll wake up stuck on Uncle Freddie's couch?" Lindsay's voice said from the corner of the loveseat. "I'll open my eyes and Messer will have disappeared? Please?"

"Sorry, kiddo." Stella pulled Lindsay's arm away from her eyes and the younger woman groaned again, trying to curl up in a ball. "You asked for help, and now you're gonna get it."

Danny was trying real hard not to laugh at the country bumpkin—_kid obviously couldn't hold her liquor. _He took a look around the apartment, noticing some details he'd missed earlier. Suddenly he had a strange suspicion that _this _was definitely not Lindsay's new place. _What the hell was goin' on?_

"Guys, there's a full box of donuts in the kitchen, glasses are above the cupboard, help yourselves while Lindsay and Jennifer get changed. Stella knows where everything's at. I'm going to go finish changing." Mac said, matter-of-factly. He wasn't denying the obvious.

"Ok, but hurry up. Wasn't the truck from Montana supposed to be here at eight sharp?" Stella asked, "Don't worry, I'll sober these two up."

"Thanks, Stel."

NYNYNYNY

Danny and Don sat at Mac's kitchen table, eating donuts and pondering what they'd just witnessed.

"So she's been stayin' with Mac?" Don asked, "You think there's somethin' to that?"

"Naw, man. Surely not, Mac wouldn't get involved with one of his people," Danny said, though he doubted his own words. He'd seen how the man had looked at the bumpkin.

"Gossiping?" Stella asked, reaching for a donut of her own. She'd been standing just inside the kitchen, unseen by the two men. "She's only been here a few days. Seems her uncle's place had nine people in it all day long and Lindsay was stuck trying to sleep on a couch. Mac offered her his spare room. I'm surprised she didn't mention it."

"Well, we really don't discuss much beside the cases." Danny said, shrugging. "So does the bumpkin usually pass out drunk on the boss's couch? Or is today special?"

"It was Detective Angell's birthday, and if I recall correctly, I heard mention of a shared interest in hot, sexy firemen. If I hadn't already had plans, you bet your ass I'd have been with them." Stella said, smiling. "Seems they had a good time."

"Goody for them." Danny said. _Firemen?__ What the hell? What's wrong with cops?_

"Jealous, Messer?" Flack asked, grinning around the donut in his mouth. "So Stella, if this is Mac's place, where's Monroe's?"

"2M, just down the hall, Mac helped her get into the building." Stella answered just as Detective Angell stumbled in, clutching the Styrofoam cup of steaming coffee. She sank into the chair by Don and lay her head on her arms.

"Never again." She moaned.

"So what exactly did you do last night?" Stella asked, sympathetically.

"I'm invoking my rights as outlined in the Fifth Amendment. Ask Lindsay, it was all her idea. _Firemen."_Angell answered.

Lindsay walked in and dropped a piece of paper in front of Angell. "Here, I, uh…found this when I was changing."

"Shit! So that really happened? Oh gawd. Kill me now, please." Angell said. "What were we thinking?"

"So what is it, Angell?" Flack asked, snatching the paper from her unresisting hand. "Let's see, a phone number and the words give us a call if you wanna try on our hats. Oh, lame. Please tell me you didn't fall for that shit?"

"Of course not." Lindsay said indignantly. "But we couldn't be rude!"

"Sure, ya couldn't." Danny said, smirking. Lindsay was now dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. She looked young and sweet, perfect target for some lecherous hose-boys from the NYFD.

Anything Lindsay might have said was cut off by the intercom buzzing. She snatched a donut and executed a perfect pirouette, running toward the door, "My piano!"

NYNYNYNYNY

By the time the team made it down to the sidewalk outside the building, Lindsay was in an excited discussion with the drivers of the moving truck. No signs of her earlier headache were visible on her face, and she was practically dancing on her feet as the first of the two moving men unlocked the back of the truck.

Danny walked up beside her, "Easy there, Montana, let the guys do their job."

"Can it, Messer. You're here as slave labor only, that means no talking." Lindsay told him, hopping into the back of the truck, reaching for the stack of boxes.

"Hey, hey, little missy. Nobody in the back but us!" The driver said, shooing her back down to the sidewalk. "Now I need you to sign this, and initial here."

Lindsay scrawled her name on the paper he handed her and the movers began unloading the two dozen boxes nearest the opened door. They stacked them near Lindsay, Jennifer and Stella.

Jennifer and Stella each grabbed a box. "Mac, lead the way."

Mac grabbed the largest of the boxes and used his pass-card to get back into the building. Lindsay had already given him a spare key to keep for her.

Danny stood a few yards away from the bumpkin, watching as the men started unloading the few pieces of furniture. Lindsay's roll-top desk, an old rocking chair carved from the darkest ebony wood, and a piano.

"Careful with that!" Lindsay said. "That's my baby!"

"Literally, huh Montana?" Danny asked watching as the piano was wheeled down the ramp to the sidewalk. "So how we gonna get that to your place?"

"Hopefully it will fit through the doors and in the elevator. Don't worry, I've already measured, and I know the piano's dimensions. It'll fit." Lindsay said, running one hand lovingly over the piano's side, a look of adoration in her eyes.

All that for a piano? _Geesh__Crazy bumpkin._Really needed to get out more, Danny thought, as the movers slammed the drop door shut and gave Lindsay a copy of the receipt. Danny and Don looked at one another as Mac, Stella, and Jennifer returned.

"So how d'you all want to do this?" Danny asked. "Boxes first?"

"Someone will need to stay with the stuff while the rest of us make a few trips upstairs, we'll have to get the piano last." Mac said, "Angell, why don't you stay here while we all get this stuff upstairs. You still look a little rough."

Jennifer didn't protest—apparently she didn't hold her liquor as well as Lindsay. The smaller woman was busy checking the labels on her boxes and missed the exchange. "I can handle that. Not like someone will try to steal a piano."

"Ok, let's do this." Danny said, "Get it over with."

"I thought I told you, you couldn't talk. You're just slave labor—you lost the bet after all!" Lindsay sassed him, slamming a small box into his stomach.

"So what bet was this, anyway? Anything I should know about?" Mac asked as he and Don each grabbed two heavy boxes labeled _books. _

"The bet was all about being underestimated." Lindsay explained cryptically. "Don and Messer were a little cocky and we simply brought them down a peg—resulting in cheap labor."

"So what did you do to them, Lindsay?" Mac asked.

"Beat them at pool." Lindsay told him, shrugging, "But they took it rather well—or at least Don did. Most guys tend to get a little pissy when someone beats them at their own game."

She resisted throwing a meaningful glance in Messer's direction, but he stiffened anyway. Her little barbs were starting to get under his skin. _If the bumpkin wants to play, he'll show her how it's done. Won't know what hits her._

"Hey, was just takin' it easy on you, is all." He told her, "But anytime you feel like a re-match, I'm up for it."

"Oh, I don't know, I don't think your ego could handle it." She smirked at him before circling around him with her arms full of three small boxes.

"I can handle anything you can throw my way, Montana."

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(Two weeks later)

Danny and Hawkes were processing the apartment when Flack hollered for Danny to get his ass in the bedroom. Danny looked at Hawkes, raising an eyebrow and shrugging before heading down the hall.

"What the hell's so important?" Danny asked, seeing his buddy staring at a pile of pictures on a beat up brown desk. "Watcha' got?"

"You gotta see these, man."

Danny checked his gloves, ensuring no transfer was present, before shifting the first photograph. He let out a long round of curses when he saw what the image had captured.

Hawkes peered over his shoulder, also seeing the photographs. He raised the camera to his eye and started documenting the position and situation.

Danny flipped open his cell phone and punched in Mac's number. "Hey Mac. I need you to get down here ASAP. Our perp's been takin' pictures of Lindsay."

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Mac sorted through the pictures, separating them into piles. Six different faces looked back at him from a total of two hundred eighty seven pictures. Lindsay Monroe featured in fifty-eight images. All were candid shots, taken when she was not looking directly at the camera except in two. Some were taken while at obvious crime scenes, proof that whomever the photographer was, he'd been following her for a while. Several of the images featured Lindsay with various members of the team. Some were obviously taken inside the building where she and Mac lived, of them walking side-by-side into the building, a close-up shot of Lindsay's face behind dark sunglasses as she sat by the roof's pool in a very revealing bathing suit. Another shot featured her walking between Stella and Detective Angell, shopping bags in hand. Another shot featured both Mac and Lindsay taken only two nights before; Lindsay stood in a dumpster dressed in coveralls, smiling down at Mac while she was holding a shotgun with two fingers. A particularly well framed shot showed her shoving a box into Danny's arms the day they moved. He was looking down at her with obvious irritation. The most disturbing image was of Lindsay as she walked around her apartment in a pink set of pajama shorts and matching tank. On the back of the images were hand-written notes about Lindsay's habits, the names of the other people in the pictures, and short notes and comments. One of her in her building contained the words _2M. Watch out for guard-dog in 2C._

2C was Mac's apartment. 2M was Lindsay's.

It was obvious the photographer was planning something.

"Mac? Where's Lindsay at now?" Flack asked, as Mac and Danny searched the apartment for some hint of the photographer's identity.

"I called her and told her to stay at the lab until I get there. She's running DNA for Stella and Hawkes."

"Damn!" Danny swore, standing beside the desk he'd just searched, "Nothin, no mail, no computer, nothing with any shred of evidence as to who this sonofabitch is."

"He obviously has access to my building," Mac said, holding up a clear shot of each of the six women. "Young, single, pretty—and all live alone in _my _building."

"So maybe a repairman—maintenance, someone hired by the landlords?" Don asked, making notes..

"Possible, but it could also be someone who visits, or just someone people are used to seeing around the building. Someone who just blends in." Mac said as he dusted the desk for prints.

"What about the lease agreement for this dump?" Danny asked, running an ALS over the twin bed shoved against the wall.

"Cash and crash," Flack explained, standing out of Mac and Danny's way. "Eight hundred. Pay and no questions asked."

"No paper trail." Mac said, rhetorically. "So what brought you two to this particular apartment?"

"Door-to-door canvas, that DFO found in the lobby this morning. We noticed the door had been kicked in so we came in for a look-see." Flack said.

Danny scraped the edge of the coffee table, flaking the hardened substance into a sterile envelope and labeling it. It was brown with tiny shreds of what appeared to be foil trapped in it.

"What did you find there?" Mac asked.

"Not sure. Lindsay'd collected something similar from the Jane Doe."

"So that definitely connects this guy to that victim. But we have no name, no description, absolutely no way of identifying this guy." Mac said, bagging the photographs and labeling them.

"Not unless the prints or DNA is in the system." Danny tightened his lips. _Who the hell was __stalkin__' the bumpkin?_

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"I don't understand, Mac." Lindsay said looking through the pile of pictures spread over the layout table. "I've never seen anyone around the building taking pictures. And I think we would have noticed someone in the alley that night. Don't you think?"

"A high-powered lens, at that vantage, and we _wouldn't _have seen anyone around." Mac told her. "Until this is over, I don't want you going anywhere alone, Lindsay. In fact, I think you should move back into the guest room at my place."

"But Mac…"

"Montana, he's got a point." Danny interrupted her, as he entered Mac's office. "Check this out. This blonde here, the one labeled 4J—it's our Jane Doe from a couple of weeks ago. She lived in your building and its obvious this nutjob followed her, too. And now she's dead."

"You get a name for this woman?" Mac asked, watching the interchange between the two youngest members of his team. He wasn't sure, but he almost thought there was a _tension _between the two.

"Andrea Paget. Twenty-nine years old, single, a pediatric optometrist. Told her partners she was taking a month's vacation to work down in Brazil as a relief worker. No one's heard from her since."

"So what have we got to go on?" Mac asked, looking at Danny while still keeping an eye on Lindsay as she sorted the photographs with a tight expression on her face.

"Brown substance, a generic wood glue. Fingerprints _not _in the system and male DNA sample, same as found at the apartment, also no hits. But it does come back to a male with black hair and possible green eyes."

"So other than a description that fits a good portion of New York, we have no solid leads." Mac frowned, once more looking at Lindsay. "I don't know that it's a good idea for you to be in the building at all."

"So what are you suggesting? I can't go back to my uncle's, not with this guy following me." Lindsay asked, folding her hands together to keep the two men from seeing the trembling of her fingers.

"She could stay wit'me. I have a spare room and the building's pretty secure." Danny offered, more willingly than he'd care to admit. "Flack's crashed there a time or two."

"That's a suggestion." Mac said, thinking of the pros and cons. "Lindsay?"

"Thanks, uh, Danny, but what's to keep this guy from following me there anyway?" Lindsay asked, trying vainly to think of any reason, any reason at all, to turn down Messer's offer.

"Maybe that's what we should do." Danny said, sinking into the chair beside Lindsay's. "First we think of a reason to get the other four women out of the building. Holiday weekend's comin' up, so they could all conceivably be going out of town. The odds are good that he'll follow Lindsay around sometime, and we lead him to my place. The apartment beside mine is empty, maybe we can use that. Could set Flack and Stella up next door, people are used to seeing Flack in my building."

"So you want to trap this guy, and I'm the bait?" Lindsay asked, skeptically.

"Something like that. We can't use your place, or even Mac's because the guy knows about Mac."

"But if he's followed me, he knows you're a cop too. And Flack, and Stella." Lindsay argued, wondering briefly why Mac wasn't offering suggestions.

"Yeah, but you have your own place, so if you _choose _to stay with me, it's like an insult to him. It's out of your routine and that'll flush him out. Jealousy and all that. Because a guy like this works off of obsession. Following women is what turns him on, that, and learning their routines just so he can screw with that routine. But if _you _change the routine it should shake him up."

"Or cause him to shut down completely and we never catch the guy." Lindsay looked to Mac for support, only to be floored to see the older man nodding his head in agreement.

"It might work, Lindsay, and until we have more to go on, I don't think we have any other options. You can't have 24 hour protection forever. Tell you what, take a couple of hours to think about it, see if you can help Stella _inside _the lab, until you come to a decision." Mac said, bagging the photographs. "But Lindsay, we _will _catch this guy, won't we Danny?"

"You betcha', kiddo. You got my word on that." Danny stared at Lindsay, seeing for the first time how vulnerable she actually was. She stood a good four inches shorter than him and probably weighed in at about a buck, buck fifteen. Her wrists were half the size of his—she was small. Sure she was kind of feisty, and he'd heard she'd taken down a suspect who outweighed her by a good eighty pounds, but how much of a chance would she stand against a male attacker?

Not much of one at all. He made a vow then and there to see to it that she never had to find out. _He'd find this sick son of a bitch and keep the bumpkin safe—one way or another._

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Danny thought it would be awkward having the bumpkin—no, _Lindsay—_in his apartment. Instead, it was if she was a ghost. He'd shown her into the guest room and told her to make herself comfortable three days ago and that was practically the last time he'd seen her, other than work, and the drive into and from the lab.. She was the first woman to actually _sleep _at his place for any reason other than the obvious—and even then, he was quick to make it clear that he didn't want _his space _invaded.

But Lindsay was different. Who knew how long she'd be there?

Friday rolled around, and Danny and Lindsay both had the following day off. Danny thought about knocking, seeing if Lindsay wanted anything to eat, seeing if she maybe wanted to go out to a movie or something. Before he could, though, his phone rang, Mac's name flashing across the screen.

"Messer."

"Danny, we've got a suspect! I need you down here ASAP. Bring Lindsay, don't leave her alone until we know for sure this is the guy."

"Kay, we'll be there in about forty, Mac. Let me just tell Montana what's goin' on."

Danny closed his phone and went down the hall. He knocked on the guestroom door and waited until he heard the sound of the knob turning. When the door was fully opened he looked at the woman standing there and forgot what he'd intended to say. She was dressed in a small pink tank with pink and mint flannel bottoms. Her midriff and shoulders were bare, the skin smooth and unblemished and looking incredibly soft. He fisted his hands to keep from touching.

"Danny? What's wrong?" Lindsay asked, looking up at the taller man.

"Mac called, they got somebody in custody. They're not sure if it's him, but he needs me down at the lab. Told me to bring yous…said you shouldn't be alone until we're sure." Danny stuttered his explanation then breathed deeply, trying to regain his equilibrium. It didn't work. Instead his lungs were filled with the tantalizing scent of vanilla and heat, warm woman.

_What the hell was goin' on? _He asked himself as she nodded. He couldn't be jonesin' for the bumpkin—no, _Lindsay—_surely to hell not!

"Ok, um, let me change real quick. Five minutes?" Lindsay said, feeling the awkwardness between them, but unaware of the cause. She just attributed it to the strangeness of one colleague being forced to spend time with another—one they didn't like, at that.

"Sure, sure." Danny said, "I'll, uh, be in the livin' room."

"Ok."

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Danny sat across the table from Mr. Christophe' Landreaz, a dark complected man of average build and indeterminate age. He was the type of man who'd blend in with any crowd. He was completely unremarkable—and Danny knew it in his gut that this was the guy who'd been stalkin' _his _bumpkin.

"So why'd you do it, Chris? Why'd you follow these girls? Rebecca Newe, Tonya Stefens, Justine Louis, Stephanie Meecham, Lindsay Monroe?" Danny tried to keep his voice from faltering as he said the last name. It sounded so wrong, clumping Lindsay with the victims.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"Now don't bullshit a bullshitter. My boss, you see, he's a smart man. He found your camera, Chris. Found the serial number, the serial number _you _registered. Then he found your fingerprints at both the apartment and on the body of Andrea Pageat. What we don't know is _why. _Of course, in this job we aren't really taught to focus on the _why. _Instead, we are supposed to look for the _how, when_, and _where_, not to mention the _what_. Now, you see, we've got you on all of those. And you know what they say—a picture is worth a thousand words. You know, we can prove _your _camera took these pictures. You know how? Your SLR, single lens, each camera has mirrors in the lens, ya know? Of course you know, you're a photographer. Well, those mirrors take certain images and bend them onto the film."

Danny paused in his speech, taking a sip of water before continuing. "Your camera has a small, almost imperceptible scratch in the lower left that is just visible on the finished photo. So, you sees, we were able to take these pictures you took, and match them to your camera. And then to top it all off—my boss found the negatives, my friend. Negatives that have _your _fingerprints all over'em. Care to explain? Now's your chance buddy. 'Cause let me tell you, my boss, when he gets in here. He ain't gonna go too easily on you. Ya see, he's the guy in this picture, and boy, is he pissed. We're all a little pissed—Detective Monroe? She's one of us. I works with her every day, and I'd hate the thought of someone hassling her like this. So you'd better fess up, before Mac gets in here. It won't be pretty, man. He's real protective of Monroe."

"I've done nothing illegal." Landeaz said, though the break in his voice and the shaking of his body belied his statement.

"Murder. That's illegal here in New York." Danny told him, knowing it was time to go in for the kill. "And when the jury sees these pictures here, pictures of the other women you could have hurt—one of them a New York city police detective—they aren't gonna be sympathetic. That's most likely a twenty-five to life, plus, man. You really want to do at least a quarter?"

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying, give it to me straight. Maybe I put a word in for you with the ADA. I here it's Novak, she's a bit tough, but she's fair. Casey, I think her name is." Danny told him, tapping a picture of Lindsay walking arm in arm with Mac against the file opened before him. "Tell you whats, why don't I tell you what I think happened. I think you was followin' Tiffany, maybe she saw you takin' her picture. Demanded you stop, told you she wanted the film. You didn't like that idea. She grabbed for your camera—we found a smudged print from her on the casing of your camera. You hit her, bent over her and placed your hand around her neck. When she passed out, you had a little bit of fun, raped her. She wakes up, starts fighting you and you wrap the strap from your camera around her neck and you tighten it. You keep tightening it."

He mimed tightening a rope, waving his hands in front of the suspect for added effect. "I know this because the word _Canon _was pressed into her skin. That's the same name embroidered on the strap of your camera, it's the same brand of camera that you carry. But here's where it gets interestin'. Wood glue found at both the scene and your apartment. Wood glue you used when building that fancy western set for that photo shoot you did two weeks ago. And here's the piece de le resistance, Chris, you sonofabitch."

Danny slid an eight by ten black and white photo of Landeaz holding the murder weapon and snapping pictures at the crime scene. Behind Landeaz, Lindsay was visible, kneeling over the victim. Approximately fifteen feet separated Lindsay from the killer. It was enough to make Danny's blood freeze. That's where Landeaz had most likely seen Lindsay, then followed her back to Mac's and realized _she _lived in the same building as his great aunt. They'd confirmed that Landeaz often used the roof of Mac's building for outdoor shots because it was clean and spacious.

"This is all the ADA needs, Chris." Danny told him, as the door opened and Mac walked in, followed closely by Stella.

"Danny, council has arrived for Mr. Landeaz here." Stella said, as she took the seat next to the younger detective. "They've asked that there be no more questioning for a few minutes."

"Kay, so we wait." Danny said, shrugging philosophically. "Where's Lindsay? She alright?"

"She's fine. Waiting with Sheldon in the breakroom. The ADA has asked that Lindsay not observe the interrogation, since she was a potential victim." Mac said, as he stacked the pile of photographs Danny had disturbed. "Why don't you take a break and go check on her."

"Sure, Mac. Call me if you need me. I'll keep a close eye on her." Danny said, deliberately trying to goad the suspect into speaking. The door opened and Landeaz's attorney entered. The suspect and the defense attorney spoke for a few moments. Danny stuck around, waiting for Mac's nod. They'd worked out a general plan in advance. "I might just take her home, Mac. She to it that she rests. You know how she is, burns the candle at both ends. You sure she ain't watchin?"

Danny watched as the suspect tried to resist looking toward the observation window. The majority of the pictures they'd found, both developed and the rolls unfinished were of Lindsay, leading credence to the belief that she was the next target, that Landeaz held a more developed obsession for the Montanan. Danny and Mac were hoping to spark something from the man using basic jealousy.

"She's here?" Landeaz asked, ignoring his attorney's advice to remain silent. "Can I speak to her? Tell her I didn't mean to scare her. Just wanted her picture that's all."

"Mr. Landeaz, I am going to have to insist you remain silent." The attorney said.

"But I don't want her to be scared of me. I wouldn't have hurt her. I didn't mean to hurt Andrea it was an accident. I wouldn't hurt Lindsay! It was her eyes. She had such sad eyes, sad eyes in a happy face. I just wanted her picture." The man continued, as Danny sat back down in his chair.

"She didn't want you to take her picture, man. It creeped her out. What kind of guy takes a girl's picture without her knowing it?" Danny goaded.

"She's so pretty! I watched her, watched her digging through _garbage _and laughing—flirting—with a man old enough to be her father! Why couldn't she smile at me that way? Why did she have to smile at _you__?'' _He turned to Mac as he wailed his question. "I only wanted her to look at me, to smile at me! Was that so wrong? I watched her with her friends, with you, with you, and with that pretty detective with dark hair. But she never looked at me. Then she just, she just disappeared."

The man quieted, as Mac and Stella looked at Danny, then back to Landeaz.

Danny smiled, a cold and terrifying expression, and told the man across the table from him. "You wanna know where she went? Where she went to get away from _you?" _

He waited for the man's nod before continuing with deadly precision. "She went home with _me."_

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Lindsay waited impatiently while they interrogated the man. They hadn't even told her his name or what he looked like. She just wanted it over. The last three days spent at Danny's had been extremely awkward. She knew he didn't want her there, anymore than she'd wanted to be there. So she'd spent as little time around him as possible, instead choosing to stay in his guest room, reading and watching the television in there. Now she sat across the breakroom table from the sweetest member of the team. Sheldon was perhaps her favorite person in the lab—next to Stella and Mac (but they were different of course, being her bosses)—he had a kindness that drew her.

"You ok?" he asked, handing her a cup of coffee.

"Yes. I just wish I knew what was going on in there."

"Hey, don't worry about it. If anyone can find out what this guy is after it's Danny. And he won't give up until you're safe." Sheldon had his own beliefs about Messer's behavior towards Monroe, but he didn't dare voice them.

"But why?"

"Because that's the way Danny is. I know he seems like he can be a real ass, Linds, but when it comes down to it—people on this team are Danny's family. And that includes you."

"Sometimes I don't feel _included._" Lindsay told him, letting her feelings slip. She hadn't even told Mac the extent of what Danny made her feel. "I seriously doubt that Danny Messer wants me anywhere near his precious lab."

"Because of the teasing?"

"That, and the way he looks at me. Like he thinks he's smarter than me simply because I am not from around here."

"That's just the way Danny is. I'm not sure he's even aware that a world outside New York even exists. And I damn well doubt he's ever left the city. That's the way it is for a lot of New Yorkers like Danny. Just don't let him get to you, and give him a chance."

"That's all anybody can do, kid." Sheldon took the coffee cup she handed him and rinsed it quickly before sitting it beside his. "What do you say we go get some lunch? On me?"

"Sure."

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Lindsay followed Sheldon down to the basement where the cars were kept. It was raining pretty heavily so they'd decided to drive to the Thai restaurant eight blocks from the lab. Lindsay and Angell had found it the first week Lindsay had been in residence. They'd loved it so much, they'd go there on a twice weekly basis.

As they rounded the last corner they passed the interrogation rooms, just as the door opened. Mac and a uniformed officer were escorting a suspect out in handcuffs. The man looked up and caught sight of Lindsay and stopped abruptly, causing the man following to bump into him. Danny rounded the suspect, trying to see what, or who, had caught his eye—although he had a strange feeling in his gut as to who it was.

Lindsay and Sheldon nodded at Mac and Danny and continued on their way. But they weren't fast enough. The man pulled away from the uniformed officer holding him, and lunged toward Lindsay. She gasped and jumped, Sheldon saw what was happening and anticipating Lindsay's reaction he swung her into his chest and pulled her as far away from the suspect as he could get her, wrapping his arms around her for protection.

Danny jumped between Lindsay and the suspect, physically placing his body in front of her and Sheldon. Mac and the uni wrestled the suspect down to the floor until he was subdued. Danny knelt down to help, placing his knee in the man's back.

"Sheldon! Get her the hell out of here!" Danny yelled, usurping Mac's authority with ease. Mac didn't say anything—after the interrogation he'd just witnessed he had a sneaky feeling that Danny had a more vested interest in Lindsay than just a co-worker.

"Come on, Lindsay." Sheldon pulled her out of the precinct, and held her until she stopped shaking. "I'm sorry, Lindsay, I should have thought before we came this way!"

"Not your fault, I figured they'd be in there a lot longer." Lindsay took a deep breath. "It just startled me. I didn't know what he looked like, and to have him jump out like that, surprised me, is all."

"Still feel up to some lunch?" Sheldon ushered her over to his personal car and opened the passenger door for her.

"Sure. I'm always up for Thai."

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Mac gave strict orders to the uniformed officers who'd rushed to help subdue Landeaz. Danny continued to kneel on the guy's back until Lindsay and Sheldon were well out of the building. The attorney kept hollering that his client needed to be let up off the floor but Danny just ignored him.

"Not until Lindsay is out of the building." He told the man. "I want to be sure she's safe."

"Nice work, Danny." Mac told the younger man as they watched Landeaz being booked. "You kept your cool, and handled Landeaz's interrogation like a pro."

"Wasn't nothin'. Just didn't like the idea of the punk stalkin' Lindsay. She's all alone here 'cept for us, ya know." Danny didn't know when his attitude toward Lindsay had changed, but in his heart he knew what he was saying was right. "We need to watch out for her. Especially with scum like that walkin' around."

"You're absolutely correct, and I'm sure Lindsay appreciates all that you've done for her." Mac told him, "It was a good thing you done. Don't forget that."

"I won't." Danny said, a part of him awed that he'd done the man he considered a good friend and almost father figure proud.

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Lindsay stood in the middle of Danny's guestroom gathering her few belongings. It seemed that since she'd arrived in New York she'd spent most of her time in some man's guest room—or on their couch. Uncle Freddy, Mac, and now Danny—she didn't know what to think about that.

"Lindsay? You ready?" Danny called from the living area, where he'd been attempting to play a solitary game of pool. "Still want that ride?"

"Sure. And thanks again, Danny." Lindsay said, as she came down the short hall carrying her small dufflebag. A corner of pink and mint fabric stuck out of one end and Danny felt his mouth go dry as he remembered her wearing those particular pants.

"No problem. We watch out for each other, around here, ya know? I got your back, Montana. All yous got to do is ask."

"I'll remember that." Lindsay told him, secretly touched at his words. He was the last person she'd ever expected to say that to her.

"You do that. But keep it on the down-low. I do have a rep to maintain." He smiled at her, then breathed deeply, wanting to remember the smell of vanilla and warm woman mingling with the scent of his apartment as they stood there by his pool table.

Who knows, he thought, maybe it's a smell he'd get to experience again sometime. He'd like that, he really would, he decided as he made one last shot and sent the eight ball racing toward the right corner pocket.

In fact, he'd lay a Franklin on it happening again. He just didn't know when.


End file.
